Lathering the cloth again, she took extra care in her erasure of all traces of the night’s conquest, rubbing her mound systematically, across the to... and down each side. She didn’t care about them, they didn’t care about her. She slipped soap slick fingers between her legs and carefully washed each lip, rinsing, then farther inside as to wipe out as much as she could. Michele, finished with her cleansing, reached up, leaning against the shower wall, letting the hot spray wash over her. A. She also made time to stop and watch me practice. When she called me to lunch I was sweating lightly and needed a break. She had been quiet since the funeral last night."How far is it to your Grandma's farm from here if we ride the horses?"She looked at me strangely, again, and quietly said that it was about four hours."We should go and tell them what happened don't you think?" She just nodded. I had absolutely no clue on how to talk to a girl that was medieval, teenaged, grieving, possibly. More

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